


picking up the pieces

by oaba



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Friendship, Grief/Mourning, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Villain Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), clingyduo angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:14:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29088180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oaba/pseuds/oaba
Summary: tysm for reading!feel free to tell me what you thought in the comments! :]
Kudos: 11





	picking up the pieces

tubbo stood in awe under the beating sun, which would have, under different circumstances, warmed him into building flower crowns of daisies and cornflowers and watched him skip through the tall grass; but today it felt violent and dark red, as if it was completely against him.

tubbo’s blurry vision was focused on the large man who was feet in front of him; his glowing netherite armor dripping with blood— tommy’s blood, to be exact. tubbo knew one thing for certain: he had lost.

tubbo’s stomach lurched. what had he just witnessed? flashes of flying axes and breaking glass bottles soared through his head, but the loudest of them all was the final chop of dream’s axe and tommy’s splitting shriek. the silence that followed had completely consumed tubbo. his head was now heavy and filled with fog; he couldn’t say a word. dream’s laughter, which had never felt this vile to tubbo, attacked his ears like a swarm of disturbed bees.

he was sure that by now his brown eyes would have been filled with hot, salty tears, but none had appeared. the boy stood completely still, bruised and bleeding, on the desert hill, scrambling for what to do next. what to do, now that his other half was gone. dead. 

hours passed him by like seconds. dream was now gone. tubbo hadn’t even noticed that the man had disappeared. it took the sudden sting of a spider bite to steal tubbo from his trance and back into the harsh reality he was facing, where the sky had filled itself with bright stars. tubbo slashed his sword once at the spider. it let out a small cry of pain as it died, and tubbo felt nothing. he was suddenly the smallest, loneliest child in the universe. the stars and planets that dusted the blue-black sky above him laughed in his face. he set his weapon down in the sand and dropped to his knees, where he sat, expecting sobs to expel from his chest, but still, nothing. 

he didn’t sleep that night. how could he, when his best friend’s body had crumbled to the ground right in front of him? tommy’s body had disappeared into the cloud of grey ashes that tubbo had grown so used to after years of accidental deaths from falling from great heights and being playfully attacked. but this time, it was different. this death was permanent. tubbo could feel it.

gradually, as if it was purposefully dragging out the experience, the sun leaked into the dark sky, painting the soft clouds with pinks and oranges and lavenders. tubbo would have usually basked in the colors, but his stinging, dry eyes were now filled with the evidence of his turmoil. tears streamed onto his freckled cheeks. his hands trembled violently, as if they wanted to cry as well, but couldn’t, so they simply shook. his chest, weighted down with black armor meant for a grown man, shook with screaming sobs that echoed through the sandy hills surrounding him. he couldn’t make out any of the familiar voices calling out for him.

the hollow, windy sound of tridents soaring through the air grew nearer. tubbo was suddenly awake and present in his own life. he, between gasping sobs, called out for his father, philza, and his friend, ranboo, who called for him, and tommy, right on back. tubbo rose to his feet, waving his thin arms frantically, as if he was directing a ship back to shore. 

after landing on the sand, the enderman-hybrid immediately took tubbo in his long, tired arms. he shushed tubbo as comfortingly as he could and placed a trembling chin on tubbo’s head. he stroked his friend’s hair, completely dumbfounded by the scene around him. ranboo had expected, like everyone else, a victory for tubbo and tommy. but, he could immediately sense what had happened only hours before. he was so, incredibly wrong. phil, on the other hand, searched, in vain, for his son. he called out tommy’s name over and over, each time, filling his voice with more and more desperation as the realization set in. he turned, slowly and somberly, to ranboo, who was staring at the patch of unnaturally red sand with discs and weapons and armor scattered across it, just a foot in front of himself and tubbo. 

phil’s head tilted slightly, as if to ask for confirmation of his fears. ranboo, avoiding eye contact as usual, nodded. phil shook his head. mumbles of “no, it can’t be” and “my poor boy” bubbled from his lips. phil began to weep, which shook ranboo to his very core. phil was the strongest, most stubborn man in the land, no one had ever seen him cry. that included wilbur, who phil had last cried over on that tragic day when wilbur breathed his last breath. wil’s unseeing, brown eyes had burned holes into phil’s shattered heart that day. phil hadn’t been the same old man ranboo had come to love ever since.

the man’s sobs shook the ground all around the three of them. slowly, other members of the SMP arrived at the scene. slight gasps and “oh”’s infiltrated tubbo’s ringing, obscenely hot ears, filling his pounding heart with guilt and sorrow. tubbo clung to ranboo’s lanky frame, as if he feared that letting go of his friend would send him directly to hell, where he was now convinced that he belonged. ranboo took note of this sudden desperation and wrapped his arms tighter around the small, shaking boy.

as the people around them started to realize the situation at hand, a small woman with horns just slightly larger than tubbo’s rested a weary hand on ranboo’s bent back. the enderman rose up and allowed for the woman to steal tubbo away from him. ranboo now stood completely still, arms empty, afraid to move. he slowly and hesitantly reached an obsidian-black hand into the brown bag on his back, pulling out a leather book and white, feather quill. as if he was unsure if he should, he started to scribble down some notes. others, like punz and ponk, started to gather tommy’s things from the bloody patch of sand that they laid on. it was all a blur to tubbo. he had convinced himself that it hadn’t happened— that he would wake from this nightmare to find himself in his bedroom in snowchester, wrapped up in warm blankets, and ready to start a new day. but, as he would come to find out, no amount of small pinches would wake him from this horrible dream.

over the next few hours, he and the others made their way back to the SMP, passing the large hole where tubbo’s homeland once stood. tubbo couldn’t bring himself to look, to remind himself of how his country was just another thing that he couldn’t save. the manhole was filled with debris and burnt wood, and a large recreation of a flag that once brought tubbo to joyful tears. it now left him feeling empty and guilty and missing a family he would never get back.

tubbo stayed with captain puffy that night at her mushroom-themed cottage. she provided him with warm rabbit stew and held him tightly as the sun left the bright sky. tubbo marveled at the fact that she was being so kind to him despite knowing how terrible he thought he was. he constantly failed. he could never make everyone happy and he was more than aware of it. but puffy felt that he was just a boy. she knew how he was robbed of a childhood by wars and tyrants and dictators. he had been killed over and over by adults who feared him and his friends. she felt for him and loved him dearly, but he would never know of it. as he laid his dizzy head in puffy’s lap, tubbo’s weary eyes grew droopy and eventually closed. he slipped into the deepest sleep he had ever known. he dreamed of sunshine and building a large snowman with faceless figures that he could recognize but couldn’t quite make out. 

tubbo awoke from this dream to find himself tucked into a soft bed, with a yellow comforter pulled up to his chin as he usually slept. gathering his surroundings, he realized that he had slept in puffy’s home. she sat, head against the wall, on the floor next to him. 

tubbo’s armor rested, gleaming yet beat up from the previous day’s warfare, on a stand across the room. he sat up slowly, suddenly attacked by his tender ribcage and aching spine. he guessed that they felt he was sitting up too quickly and he promptly stopped. puffy turned her head to him, eyes widening at the sight of his sudden awakeness and rose to her feet as quickly as she could to help tubbo sit upright as painlessly as he could.

“good morning, my little lamb,” she muttered, her calming voice filled with relief that he did in fact make it through the night.

“morning puffy,” tubbo responded, voice groggy with pain. “how did you sleep?”

“i didn't,” she admitted, with a slight chuckle. “but you’re alive and well and that’s all that matters to me.”

tubbo’s throat closed up due to the familiar, large lump he had no choice but to fight off. he was wracked with guilt and grief and could hardly keep himself sitting upright. something about puffy’s relief toward tubbo’s safety aided him along the path to realizing that he wished he wasn’t. he wished he could trade his life for tommy’s. it was still so unreal to him. tubbo was convinced that he would leave puffy’s home that afternoon and find tommy waiting outside on the familiar oak path, ready to explore the world together.

tubbo didn’t trust himself to speak or to even look at puffy, so he averted his eyes. she sensed the sudden change in tone and sat down on the bed just slightly in front of him, taking him in her arms. he let himself weep, each cry sending jolts of pain through his lungs. puffy drew flowers with her fingers on his back as she held him.

“it isn’t your fault, tubbo.”

tubbo heard the words leave her mouth, but disregarded them.

she was so, so wrong.

**Author's Note:**

> tysm for reading!  
> feel free to tell me what you thought in the comments! :]


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